


Off His Meds

by TheMatraPseudoBiblica



Series: Vincent On and Off His Meds [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
Genre: Crossover, Vincent off his meds, Vincent on his meds, Weirdness, leave me alonw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMatraPseudoBiblica/pseuds/TheMatraPseudoBiblica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vincent's loose in Courascant and he's off his meds.</p>
<p>His friends are going to get him back.</p>
<p>Read my ding-dong-dang story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off His Meds

Luke had never had to deal with anything like this before. Re-born Emperors, yes. Mind-controlling weirdos? Yes. Super-geniuses out for blood? Yes. Sith? Don’t he know it! But this was something surreal.

Luke was staring across at someone he knew as Gilad Pelleaon who was calling himself “Scott Cawthorne” and was dressed in a purple uniform with the words “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza: Security Chief.” Beside him on the left, a man Luke tentatively identified as a very young Tarkin, “Jeremy Fitzgerald”, was fidgeting with his own badge. On the right, Lorth Needa, “Mike Schmidt” was much calmer about the whole debacle.

It had been a normal day in the Council Chamber. Until, with great dramatics, these three had come bursting through what could only be described as a hole in space and time and had been shouting about someone else: “Vincent.” Luke could only guess.

“It’s been a weird day for all of us. We were meeting up to play a few hands of poker when whatever that was dumped the four of us into some sort of tunnel. Vincent stood up and was sucked away by a gust of wind while the rest of us ended up here. I can only assume that Vincent is here as well.” Scott was explaining. “Now, Vincent is a very dear friend in a fragile state of health both mentally and physically and before we go on with answering your questions, we would ask that you begin an immediate search for him.”

Mike pulled out a photograph from his pocket. “This is him.”

Luke had been expecting a picture of a non-descript human similar to the two in front of him, but what he found was entirely different. This was a member of the same species that Grand Admiral Thrawn had been, but if it was the Admiral, it didn’t look like him. Vincent wore the same uniform as the rest of them, but his cap was missing and his hair was positively scruffy: Partly pulled into a ponytail and partly allowed to flop how it would. His eyes were different, too. They were a glowing white instead of red. “Whoah. That was not what I was expecting.”

Jeremy shrugged. “He’s very different from what most people think he should look like. Those eyes are the result of some weird disease. Do you remember its name, Mike?”

Mike shrugged and Scott cut in. “It’s unpronounceable and beside the point. He wears sunglasses as well.” In fact, as they spoke of the variations in his appearance that Vincent could go through in moments, Mike was pulling out a stack of photographs and spreading them out. That made Luke nervous. Why would these three just be carrying around this sort of identification? Was Vincent dangerous?

Needless to say, the three had clammed up and were completely focused on trying to get their compatriot back. After twenty-four hours, Luke noticed that they were growing tense and had taken to pacing about their assigned quarters. Scott was playing with a bottle of pills and Mike was fiddling with a radio transmitter. Jeremy looked practically comatose.

Finally, after six hours more, Scott demanded to speak to Luke.

Luke had been doing his research on the drugs that all three carried with them and had learned that there were three: A sedative, an antibiotic, and an anti-psychotic. “Vincent’s not normal, is he?”

Scott winced. “Well… we don’t like to think of it that way, but, yes, he’s sick. Up here.” He tapped the side of his head. “Now, here’s something I want you to keep in mind, Mister Skywalker: Vincent is about as sweet as 200 metric tons of sugar condensed into a cubic centimeter, when he’s on his meds.”

Luke nodded. “And when he’s off them?”

Scott sighed and covered his eyes. “He becomes dangerous: Both to himself and to others. Remember the scars we described to you earlier? Well, he gave most of them to himself. He’s also been known to deliberately burn himself and once to attempt to shatter his own bones. I wasn’t there for that incident, but I can tell you that it’s danged weird to find someone cooking their own arm against a hot skillet right alongside the bacon for breakfast. He’s also been known to lash out at others. I don’t know how far he’d really go: We’ve always been there to intervene before, but there was the incident of ’97…”

Jeremy spoke up. “Vincent is like a younger brother to all of us. We take care of him and all of us live together. It can be a little awkward because Vince has needs beyond his medicine. He can’t be left alone in the dark.”

“He can’t be allowed to bathe alone.” Mike joined in.

“He doesn’t eat anything red.”

“He can’t stand loud noises.”

“Basically, he needs a lot of care and attention. Care and attention he didn’t have before we came along.” Scott cut them off. “Ever since we sort-of adopted him, he’s been getting better and better.”

“We all owe him our lives for one thing or another. And he’s not supposed to live much longer-“ Jeremy cut himself off. It was obvious that this was a subject that was never spoken of openly except in tight whispers and behind closed doors.

“Just… find him. And let us help. Vincent won’t trust your men as easily as he’ll trust us and we just want him back.” Scott tiredly rejoined. “He’ll be in a bad state if you don’t find him soon: He’ll paint this whole town red.”

“Between exhaustion, the hallucinations he’ll begin suffering soon, pain, and his own psychosis and phobias, he’ll start seeing enemies everywhere.” Mike covered his face. “Find him.”

With new motivation, the search began again and Luke eventually cornered Vincent in an alley. As Scott and Mike had warned, he was in a bad way: Filthy, torn, and bruised.

Jeremy was with Luke and approached Vincent carefully. “Vince? It’s me, Jeremy. Are you okay?”

Vincent looked weirdly at Jeremy and softly backed away. “Jeremy? Why is your… why…”

Luke gently reached out with the Force and touched Vincent’s mind: it felt fragmented, shattered. He wondered whether it was trauma that had caused this. Vincent reacted to Luke as if he had punched him. With a yelp, he dodged around Jeremy and escaped into the underlevels. Luke yelled and made to chase him, but Jeremy tackled him. “No! The only thing that freaks Vincent out more than the hallucinations is being chased!”

Luke stood and shook Jeremy off. “How did you deal with him when he did this in your world?”

“We haven’t had to deal with Vincent totally off his meds since the incident of ’97.” Jeremy snapped. “He always remembers the sedative at least. It’s the Anti-Psycotic that he forgets. Either way, the one time we did lose him for longer than twenty-four hours was when we all went home for the holidays and had to leave him behind. Believe me, we went through a lot of prep for that one time and Vincent was even looking forward to a little solitude and a chance to play the new video games we got him. It was all right until he ran out of milk on the last day and tried to get to the corner grocery… Vince gets lost easily. But then we had the transmitter working and could find him.”

“Transmitter?” Luke perked up. “Vincent has a transmitter on him?”

“Yeah. Radio. It’s in an anklet we locked onto him when we first realized that he got himself lost very easily. How he made it to work for so many years is beyond me.” Jeremy pulled out a small, black object. “See? We were five feet away from him and it didn’t so much as chirp. It’s not the batteries, we all carry spares all the time.”

Luke snatched the radio and began fiddling with it. “The frequencies are different here. Let’s see…” The transmitter let out a faint chirp and went silent. “What did I do?”

“He’s out of transmitting range. These things are only useful for people on foot when Vince is standing still or remaining in one area.” Jeremy explained. “We don’t want to freak him out, so Mike designed it to stop working if Vincent is on the move and the anklet registers the speed of his steps as being over a certain level.”

The next time they found Vincent, the results weren’t pretty.

“He had a knife, Master Skywalker. We tried to stun him, but he managed to dodge the shots and you can see that Micheal got himself cut up pretty badly.”

Luke could see that.

Scott had other things on his mind. “How did Vincent look? Did he have any cuts?”

“Oh, yeah. Especially the arms and legs. Some of the torso had odd cuts too.”

That news didn’t help the three’s confidence in the situation. In fact, it made them more hell-bent than ever to find Vincent.

Scott, Mike, and Jeremy scanned the street ahead. “He’s not here.” After the disastrous use of the cameras and witness spotting, they were going over the area the old fashioned way. Luke followed behind them and felt for any traces of Vincent’s shattered mind.

Finally, they found him. “Oh, goody.”

Vincent was surrounded by the corpses of seven thugs. All were sporting knife-wounds and one had had his wind-pipe crushed. Vincent himself was sleeping peacefully in an expanding pool of blood with two ordinary knives beside him. Scott knelt beside the man and shook his shoulder gently. “Vincent? Wake up.”

Vincent woke and batted his lashes with sleep. “Scott?” He began to struggle. “Where?”

Mike and Jeremy gripped his arms and kept Vincent under control while Scott forced the three pills down his throat. “There. Go back to sleep.”

An hour later, he did. Luke glanced at the four in the back of the speeder and realized that they all had fallen asleep. When he next glanced back, they were gone.

Vincent groaned and wriggled around to a better position. As usual, his three friends had completely over-reacted to his disappearance and were smothering him in bed. Mike had somehow managed to come out on top of the dog-pile and was crushing Vincent in between Jeremy and Scott.

With much effort, Vincent slid out from under Mike and got up. Six-thirty: Time to make breakfast.


End file.
